


it'll all workout in the end

by parknpeach



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: M/M, smooth asshole woojin, the workout au nobody asked for, vulnerable jihoon bb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-02-12 14:18:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12961167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parknpeach/pseuds/parknpeach
Summary: Jihoon doesn't appreciate people who like to blast their music out loud in the gym, but if it's a certain someone named Park Woojin, then maybe he can learn to tolerate it a little.





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> if you clicked on this despite the crappy summary, i love u  
> a big hug and thank you to [mom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/99izm/pseuds/99izm) for beta-ing for me, u da best

Jihoon likes to think that he’s got his life together, really.

He’s got this whole workout thing going, his career is going fine and dandy, his boss loves him, he’s got great friends and a loving family— what more can he wish for?

Ah, right. The whole love and relationship thing, apparently.

Somehow, it’s become a Thing for everybody to be dating and engaging in all sorts of romantic activities once you’ve hit a certain age. If you’re good looking, you’re automatically assumed to have lines and lines of people queuing up to date you, but no one ever thinks about how out of those people crushing on you, not a single one might be compatible with you. Jihoon won’t deny that he’s had his fair share of exes, but they’re called exes for a reason.

It was easy for them to promise him forever and more, but there was always something in their eyes that told Jihoon that they were just looking at him like an object. It was similar to how a child would bounce up to their friends to brag about the new toy they’d just got their parents to buy. He’d be whisked off to parties and social events, and he’d stand by his partner, offering his signature, a polite smile throughout the night as the people gushed about how cute the two of them looked together, and telling his partner about _how lucky you are to have snagged such a good-looking guy!_

He tries to cooperate, meeting his companion’s eyes whenever they throw him a loving gaze full of pretense, attempting to not let a single bit of the wrenching feeling he feels deep within his chest, show on his face. Jihoon hates that he knows all he is to them is a toy— a mere rare collectible item

Jihoon knows, and is all too familiar with this process. He knows the exact moment the pride in their eyes turns into ugly jealousy because they aren’t focusing on them anymore but him. They gush all over his good looks and nothing more, all materialistic needs and wants. It’s only a matter of time before they break it to him, that they want out, that they _just don’t feel the same way anymore_ , leaving Jihoon’s polite smile stuck on his face. It used to feel like his heart was being trampled all over, but across the years, it faded into gradual pricks, like millions of needles stabbing into his heart—never quite hurting in the right places, and slowly but surely fades into a numb pain.

He won’t admit that it still hurts- but that’s the thing about rejection. Knowing they still have your heart with them and yet, throwing the most unemotional statement at you throws you off guard sometimes. Maybe he blames himself for it, for being so quick to love and easy to forgive. It’s no wonder he’s easy prey to those who only want quick games in the playing field of love.

That’s why Jihoon has learnt to close the doors of a possibly budding relationship, graciously shutting down any advances with that curteous smile once more, because he knows exactly that he’d be the only one with strings attached, the only one that will have his heart ripped open at the seams that he’s tried to sew close over, and over again. He never forgets the aching pain left in his chest as people leave over and over again, and he thinks that the phrase “dumped” is in fact, a good representation of how he feels, like something easily forgotten and an item that you could merely dispose of at your own free will.

There’s something about the numerous failed relationships that makes Jihoon lose his faith in the term “love”, and especially the phrase “love at first sight”, because what is love when affection that should be mutual, is only pouring out of one? He starts to wonder if he’ll ever find someone that loves him the same way he loved everyone else.

So aside from the relationship aspect of his life, Jihoon would like to think that he’s doing really well actually, for an adult his age.

The gym probably wasn’t the right place to be having this little self reflection time, but Jihoon couldn’t care less. Besides, a nearly empty gym gives him a type of peace and satisfaction that can’t quite be obtained anywhere else, and perhaps that’s what keeps Jihoon motivated to drag his ass from his apartment all the way here.

As if to piss Jihoon off, he hears pop music blasting intrusively into where he’s currently stationed, and Jihoon nearly slips off the treadmill in shock.

If there’s one thing Jihoon hates, it’s people with no sense of self-awareness, exactly like said person who’s currently blasting his music like he owns the gym. He tries to ignore it, in favour of turning up the volume on his supposed noise-cancelling earphones, but the music from outside keeps piercing through his own. Jihoon rips off a side of his earpieces, turning to deliver the most rage-filled glare to scare the person off, because _who the fuck_ listens to The Chainsmokers in this day and age?

Somehow, when his eyes land on the man in question, all the pieces in his mind all click together. His senses are tingling because said person is currently donned in full Nike attire, but for some strange reason, which Jihoon would love to know, his shirt is nowhere to be seen. It’s most definitely not on his body- nope, definitely not, from the way Jihoon’s eyes can’t help but get glued to his _extremely_ defined and also really fucking tanned chest, which Jihoon grudgingly admits he is very attracted to. Looking at how there’s a whole crowd of girls not so discreetly ogling at his body, and how he fucking shoots winks like he’s a winking bot at them, Jihoon’s fuckboy senses are most definitely tingling.

His original intention, which was to catch the other’s attention and hopefully scare him into being a civilised person and using proper earpieces in a public space, was completely thrown out of the window. Instead of shooting him a piercing glare, Jihoon just stares at the man with mixed emotions of anger but also “wow you’re really fucking hot and I can’t take my eyes off you”, and decides to leave the gym before he starts to staring at him longer than he should.

The image of the attractive man still lingers at the back of Jihoon’s mind even as he’s walking home, but Jihoon’s not complaining.

 

* * *

 

Luck is most definitely not on Jihoon’s side today. As soon as he steps out of the gym, thunder rumbles across the sky, causing him to jump back in fright. He groans when he searches his bag for an umbrella, only to find sweaty gym clothes, which doesn’t seem like it’d be much of a help in this torrential rain. Cursing at his misfortune, he mentally prepares himself to dash home in the rain, though the consequences might turn out worse than what he really wants to deal with. Just as he’s about to break into a run, he feels a hand pull him back, and he whips his head back in surprise.

“Woah there, strong guy, are you sure you want to run all the way home in this rain?”

Jihoon blinks once, then twice, before blurting out, “Oh? It’s you!”

The man cocks his head to a side in confusion, eyes curled up into crescents, donning a soft smile on his face, as if waiting for Jihoon to continue his sentence.

“The cute fuckboy that blasted his music out loud at the gym yesterday!”

All Jihoon can hear is the sound of the rain pouring down in the background as his brain slowly processed what he just said as Cute Guy’s smile gets even wider, and he sees a small snaggletooth peek out and rest on his bottom lip.

Once Jihoon has fully processed what he just said, he breaks out into a full blown blush and crouches down on the ground, mentally beating himself up for having a runaway mouth with no filter. He should have known better than to speak while being in a stunned stupor, really.

“So, where do you live?”

Jihoon shoots Cute Guy a glance, “It’s not as if you’ll know where it is if I tell you anyway.”

Normally, he wouldn’t even bother responding to a stranger, but Jihoon blames it on Cute Guy’s adorable smile which compels him to answer.

All Cute Guy has in response to Jihoon is another charming grin and an outstretched hand as he opens the umbrella, as if waiting for Jihoon to take his hand. “You’re absolutely right, so won’t you let me bring you home in this rain?”

Jihoon skeptically eyes his hand before reluctantly taking it as he stands to his feet. He really isn’t in the mood for getting drenched, and it’s not like it would hurt for someone to walk him home after being a lonely idiot for the longest time, anyway.

“It’s just a couple of streets away,” Jihoon says as he gestures with his free hand and taking a step into the rain, because he does not want to see the confident smirk that Cute Guy most definitely has on his face right now.

The walk home is awkwardly silent, and all Jihoon tries to focus on is how this umbrella must honestly be really huge, because even his own umbrella, he can’t shelter himself properly from the rain, yet under this umbrella, he seems to be staying a hundred percent dry. Jihoon’s hands would usually be freezing by now, but for some weird reason, one of his hands is actually really warm-

Jihoon stops in his tracks, which gives Cute Guy a surprise as he tries to shift the umbrella to cover the both of them again. Jihoon stares down at their interlocked hands, and looks back up at Cute Guy’s face in bewilderment. Cute Guy’s smile is soft and sincere, warm eyes staring into Jihoon’s own. He hates how polite Cute Guy looks when he’s already classified him as strictly fuckboy material.

“Yes?” Cute Guy says with a smile. Jihoon tries to reply while attempting to wriggle his hand out of Cute Guy’s grasp, but Cute Guy’s grip only seems to get tighter, and Jihoon glares at him in the most menacing way possible.

“I don’t even know your name, and you’re trying to hold my hand like we’ve been dating for the past ten years!”

“Park Woojin’s the name, and I sure as hell wouldn’t mind doing that.” Woojin shoots him a cheesy wink that makes Jihoon turn red for the second time in the past ten minutes, leaving him a stuttering mess as he tries to think of a comeback.

“Shall we continue on our walk back, sweetheart?”

Usually, Jihoon really hates pet names, but there’s something to Woojin’s tone that makes Jihoon feel appreciated and loved, but he won’t let Woojin get any satisfaction out of rousing him up, or showing him that he’s affected by his sweet talk, so all he does is give Woojin’s hand a little tug to continue their walk back to his house.

(He won’t admit that he’s secretly glad Woojin never lets go of his hand, because it gives him more than physical warmth and a sense of comfort that he hasn’t felt in a long while, and he hates himself for feeling like this.)

The rest of the walk back feels like eternity, because Jihoon is now terribly hyperaware of their interlocked hands and the way Woojin’s warmth seeps into him through his hand, as if enveloping him in a warm hug in the cold rain. He really does wish he was exaggerating, but maybe because it’s been so long since he’s had someone hold his hands this way, and there’s something extra heart fluttering about this scene right now—a whole cliched scene of a couple holding hands while strolling in the rain.

Except, they aren’t a couple, and Jihoon needs to remind himself of that again. That he needs to guard his heart, that Woojin is most likely just toying with his feelings, because he is a fuckboy after all, and Jihoon only got to know his name a couple of minutes ago.

(There’s a small buzzing voice at the back of Jihoon’s head that tells him to give Woojin a chance, that he might not be as bad as Jihoon thinks, that he might actually like Jihoon in that way that none of the others ever did. But Jihoon pushes the voice back, won’t let himself fall for the same mistake again, because he’s tired of having to put on that plasticky smile for show, to tell everybody that he’s fine when his heart feels like it’s about to rip open at hastily sewed closed seams.)

When they do finally reach Jihoon’s home, Jihoon turns around to see Woojin off and to bid him goodbye, but is horrified when he sees half of Woojin’s body soaked through, the umbrella barely covering half of his body as he stands there with an innocent smile on his face.

“Oh my god, are you an actual idiot?! Just, god, come in for a second and let me give you some a spare shirt and a towel please,” Jihoon looks into Woojin’s eyes, pleading.

“Sweetheart, I’ll be fine, how could a gentleman like me intrude on this terribly gloomy evening-” Jihoon rolls his eyes and hastily unlocks his apartment before pulling Woojin in through the door, with determination as his main source of strength because no doubt do those six packs and biceps weigh a ton.

 

* * *

 

Woojin enters the apartment and instinctively shivers as the warmth of Jihoon’s apartment contrasts with the stark iciness of his soaked through clothes. He doesn’t want to ruin the wooden flooring by moving about in Jihoon’s apartment though, so he stands awkwardly by the door as he tries to play off how cold he is by crossing his arms, though his shivering legs seem to be giving him away.

For someone like Jihoon, Woojin would’ve expected a much messier apartment to be honest. He didn’t expect to see neatly packed bookshelves lined up against navy walls, nor an extremely organized and minimalistic living room filled with only the necessities. It isn’t too industrialised, and gives off the feeling of warmth and comfort, and it really does feel like home for some reason, and Woojin wishes his own apartment was able to mimic the feeling that Jihoon’s apartment gives off.

He does in fact, notice a little pet bed tucked away at the corner of the room which intrigues Woojin, because from the many times Woojin’s observed Jihoon in the gym, in the least creepy way as possible, he never came across as one to have a pet. In his trance, Jihoon’s brought out a heap of warm towels fresh out of the dryer, and piles them on top of Woojin as Woojin struggles to not let the towels fall to the ground.

“Wait there, I’ll get you some extra clothes to change into!” Jihoon yells as he dashes back into another one of his rooms. Woojin juggles the towels and settles for burying his head and attempting to balance one of the towels on his head as he hastily tries to wipe himself with the remaining towels. The towels smell like lavender and fresh cotton, and Woojin can’t help but wonder if that’s what Jihoon smells like all the time. Jihoon emerges from his room with a bundle of clothing in his hands, and Woojin immediately remembers the stark difference between their fashion sense as he looks at the bright neons in Jihoon’s arms.

For some reason, maybe because Jihoon is a worrywart and appears to think that Woojin will get sick from that few minutes of half walking in the rain, he seems to have forgotten the concept of space. Because the next second there’s a frown on his face and he’s all up in Woojin’s face, a hand on Woojin’s forehead while the other is sweeping up his own fringe to check his own temperature.

Woojin doesn’t know why his heart’s racing, but he’s blaming it on the fact that his body is trying to generate more heat, and definitely not because a very attractive man is currently staring right into his eyes with the warmest, most concerned gaze ever.

He’s slowly backing away from Jihoon, not because he’s scared, but because he thinks Jihoon can most definitely feel the way his heart is pounding in his chest from how close he is to him. This makes Jihoon frown even more and as he's attempting to keep his hand on Woojin’s forehead, he slips on the little puddle that has formed on the floor from Woojin’s wet clothing.

Instinctively, Woojin reaches out to grab him but he finds himself falling as well, because aforementioned six packs and muscles do indeed weigh a ton, and no, that is not Woojin trying to cover up the fact that he’s just a klutz that can’t walk on a road without tripping and falling on himself.

Somehow, even though he’s usually very clumsy, he’s managed to turn the two of them around so that he’s the one that hits the ground first instead of Jihoon, and he feels Jihoon’s eyes widen as his head collides with the floor with a loud thud.

“Are you an idiot?!” Small palms gently collide with Woojin’s cheeks as Jihoon scrambles to get up and cradle Woojin’s head in his hands, gently rubbing the back of his head. Woojin doesn’t expect it, but he croaks out a laughter and attempts to make the situation lighter.

“I’m not an idiot, but I will be if you don’t help kiss the bruise to help the pain go away.”

Jihoon flushes pink as he slaps Woojin in the most gentle way possible again, “I’m not your mom, you dumbass!”

“Aw, that’s a pity, I was hoping for a little peck from the fairy of my dreams, but I guess I’ll just have to wait longer.” Woojin grins at Jihoon before he gets up from where he had been lying on the floor, and heads to where he presumes is the bathroom, neon clothing in hand and leaving Jihoon behind in stunned silence.

As Woojin emerges from the bathroom, he realises that the rain has stopped by now and he gets ready to go when he doesn’t see Jihoon anywhere in the living room. He’s about to step out of the door when he hears footsteps coming from inside the house and Jihoon shouts for him to wait.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Woojin smiles at Jihoon, but for some reason, Jihoon’s hastily avoiding eye contact with him, which makes Woojin slightly curious as to why he asked him to wait.

He doesn’t expect it when Jihoon tiptoes up to press his lips to the top of Woojin’s head, before coming back down with a soft pink flush across his cheeks, biting his lips as he stares down at the ground.

“Wow, sweetheart, already making the moves even though we’ve only met an hour ago, huh?” Woojin hopes he didn’t stutter while speaking, or do anything that might’ve given his thumping heart away.

“Sh- shut up! This was one time, I’m never going to see you again anyway! Get out of my house now, the rain’s stopped!” Jihoon stutters as he tries his very best to push Woojin out of his door and out of his mind.

“Goodbye, sweetheart, and don’t worry, this won’t be the last you see of me!” He hears Woojin yell as Jihoon slams the door on him, eyes wide as he slides down the door. Jihoon holds his face in his hands as he contemplates his entire life and wonders what came over him to fucking kiss a man he barely knows- let alone a man he knows is a fuckboy, and what kind of mess his life has spiraled into that he’s falling for someone that is completely out of bounds.

What he doesn’t know is that Woojin’s standing at the other side of the door, also has his heart pounding as quickly as Jihoon’s own, questioning what kind of innocent soul would entertain his blatantly playboy ways, and why his own heart was beating this fast over someone he can barely call an acquaintance.

Jihoon tries to find all sorts of reasons to explain his beating heart, even though the blatant explanation is right in front of him, screaming that _he’s fucking falling for Woojin_ , and there’s nothing to stop his descend. He’s afraid, terrified that if he takes the first steps to invite Woojin in, he’ll find out that Jihoon’s nothing but just a pretty face, and he’ll be thrown aside once more with a bleeding heart.

Yet somehow— there’s something that allows Jihoon to loosen up around Woojin, a certain warmth that makes Jihoon feel safe, and encourages him to extend his hand to Woojin regardless of the previous let-downs he’s faced.

(He thinks about their held hands under the protection of the umbrella from the raging rain, and thinks that maybe, maybe he has a chance at this love thing again, and so he grabs on to that small, humble flame of hope and prays it doesn’t burn out while he’s trying to figure out if this is worth it, or not.

Worth _what— that_ Jihoon doesn’t know.)

 

* * *

 

Woojin finds himself in front of Jihoon’s house again, an arm raised to rap on the door because for some reason, Jihoon doesn’t have a doorbell. He hears a dog barking from inside as the door swings open to reveal a disheveled Jihoon, hair in a mess and _is that an apron he has on?_

“What do you want,” Jihoon pants, “I’m kind of busy now?”

“Are you getting it on right now? In the middle of the day?” Woojin blurts out.

“No!” Jihoon exclaims, face contorting into an expression of disgust. “I’m just… trying to salvage something-”

As if on cue, a smell that _might_ resemble food wafts in Woojin’s direction, but it comes with a tinge of distinct bitterness that could only be burning food.

“Is something burning?” 

Jihoon’s eyes widen as he dashes back into his house, straight into the kitchen as a husky slowly approaches Woojin.

“Hello there,” Woojin mumbles as he crouches down to the husky’s eye level, a hand outstretched towards the husky as it pads towards Woojin. Once it seems to have decided that Woojin isn’t much of a threat, it moves closer, nuzzling its face into Woojin’s palm.

He’s a little overwhelmed when the overexcited puppy pounces on him, causing him to land buttfirst on the ground, but he isn’t complaining that a puppy is showering him with the kind of love and attention humans can’t make up for, so he settles for a chuckle and wrapping his arms around the puppy.

“You’re about as adorable as your owner, aren’t you,” He mumbles into the husky’s fur.

“Looks like you’re starting to get a little chummy with my dog, aren’t you.”

Woojin looks up to see Jihoon with his hands on his hips, and that might even be a little pout that Jihoon has on his face right now.

“What can I say, even the canines love me.”

“Shut up, you’re disgusting,” Jihoon squirms. “Anyway, what brings you here?”

“Oh, right.” Woojin reaches his hand behind, bringing the paper bag up for Jihoon to take. “Your clothes. I’ve washed and dried them already. Thanks for lending me your clothes.”

Jihoon takes the paper bag and eyes his dog, currently curled up on Woojin’s lap, and feels a slight tinge of what he doesn’t want to admit as jealousy, because his dog is treating Woojin like he’s known him for years, and Jihoon can’t help but want to be in his dog’s place— to understand what it must feel like to be securely wrapped by warmth all around in the form of Park Woojin.

“So, uh, what was all that burning smell about?” Woojin asks, curiosity flashing in his eyes as Jihoon tries to think of a good explanation that wouldn’t give away the fact that he can’t cook to save his life.

“I… uh, my roommate was cooking something! Yeah, and then he had to go to the bathroom really badly so I had to help take over.” Jihoon winces at how blatant of a bad lie that was, but Woojin seems to have accepted it. Maybe not, seeing how he has a mischievous look on his face, similar to that of a child that is about to spill the beans on someone’s secret crush.

“Anyway, I think it’s time for you to get going. Yes, I’ll see you never. Hopefully. Kira, come here!” Jihoon rambles as he gestures for his dog to get off Woojin’s lap, but all Kira does is turn to look at Jihoon with a defiant look, as if challenging him to try and pull her off Woojin’s comfortable lap.

Jihoon sighs, and Woojin just lets out a laugh when he sees Jihoon’s plight, opting to ruffle Kira’s head as he moves to stand up. Surprisingly, Kira is compliant about jumping off Woojin once she’s realised that he’s about to go off, and instead pads back to her bed where she stares at Woojin with sad eyes.

“Right, sweetheart, thank you for caring about me,” Woojin winks. “Say goodbye to Kira for me, and I’m always up if you need some help with your cooking!”

“My cooking is perfectly fine, thank you!” Jihoon shouts as he slams the door on Woojin, moving over to settle next to Kira’s bed.

He sighs as he watches Kira look up at him with curious eyes, even opting to nuzzle her head into his stomach, a habit she’s picked up whenever she feels that Jihoon’s a little distressed about something.

“Even you think he’s charming, don’t you Kira?” He mumbles softly as he runs his hand through Kira’s coat, and she makes a sound as if suggesting her agreement that Woojin is, indeed, a very charming man.

“What do I do, baby, he does seem like he could potentially be lovely and sweet at heart, but I don’t know if I’m ready to trust yet again. Plus, he’s got all those pretty ladies at the gym hanging all over him, I probably don’t stand a damned chance do I.”

It’s been months, or maybe even years since Jihoon’s been in a relationship. He doesn’t know how long it’s been, and he hasn’t bothered to count, because he believes that when the timing is right, he’d be able to find someone that leads him back on the road to learn how to trust and gain a whole heart again.

But how does Jihoon know if Woojin is the one he’s looking for? His sweet smiles, a good body and a charming personality. If anything, Woojin probably has his own lines of people queueing to date him. Jihoon doesn’t know why he feels attracted to Woojin out of all people when the signs blatantly point to him being a huge fuckboy, and he feels a pang in his chest as he thinks about all the ways Woojin could possibly dump him and throw him into the ocean with no space to breathe, just like how everybody else did.

Jihoon groans from the dull headache he’s getting from overthinking, and he notices the bag behind him, pulling it towards himself before he grabs the clothes out of the bag, preparing to store it back into his closet.

He almost misses the paper that flutters to the ground, which appears to have been sandwiched between his jumper and his pants. He picks it up before Kira can destroy the paper with her paws, and opens it up.

_Hey sweetheart,_

_I know you’re going to miss me if you don’t see my face that often at the gym, especially since I’m going to be busy this week, so call me at 02-xxx-_ xxxx _;)_

_Love,_   
_Woojin_   
_(P.S. Give me your Snapchat so I can send you my face on a daily basis. Think of it as a treat whenever you miss me and my body.)_

Jihoon snorts and crumples the paper, while Kira’s watchful eyes are on him, but he nonchalantly places the paper in his back pocket.

As he’s lying awake later that night, the crumpled piece of paper weighs heavily at the back of his mind, calling for him to open it up and just send Woojin a text, because what could go wrong?

Jihoon doesn’t know why, but there’s something about Woojin that makes him open up a little, makes him feel safe and he doesn’t have to uphold his facade of being a pretty doll that doesn’t ever get emotionally upset, always smiles and blushes and has twinkling eyes. It sounds ridiculous even to Jihoon himself, that he’s barely known Woojin for a week or two, but he wants to get to know Woojin, to know more to him than the fact that he’s a cute smile, soft around the eyes, coupled with a smooth personality.

He’s intrigued by Woojin- Jihoon saw the way he seemed to relax when he was with Kira, as if letting out his innermost vulnerable self. He had a certain vulnerability to him at that very moment, and maybe that’s why Jihoon feels drawn towards him.

A text wouldn’t hurt- just one text and he’ll go back to sleep, Jihoon promises himself.

**[ To** : **Park Woojin ] 02:46 A.M**  
Hey.

He hopes it’s a step taken in the right direction.

 

* * *

 

It’s a terribly sunny day, and Woojin would really like to be in the safe haven of the air-conditioned gym right now, but just thinking about the mild stench of sweat trapped in an enclosed area makes him shudder a little, so he continues to stretch and prepare for a run around the area instead.

As a strong advocate of the anti-earpieces club, Woojin lets his thoughts run while on the jog, without music to distract his mind.

He thinks about the past week, which has been rather uneventful honestly, except meeting Park Jihoon.

Ah, Park Jihoon.

They’ve been texting for a few weeks now, nothing but small talk and the occasional memes that are thrown here and there, but Woojin can feel Jihoon slowly opening up to him.

Woojin doesn’t know why he feels so accomplished getting Jihoon to even just send a meme back to him. Maybe it’s because Jihoon always looks so sad in his corner in the gym, rarely offering any expression other than the occasional frown or a slight nod when he exchanges equipments. It’s not like he can’t easily get squeals of delight from those thirsty girls at the gym, but there’s something different about Jihoon that he wants to protect and find out more about.

It might merely be physical attraction, he thinks, but he likes it when Jihoon blushes. When the soft pink spreads across his cheeks and he instantly looks down to the floor, or how he can hear Jihoon deadpanning even as they’re texting, and Woojin thinks it’s adorably endearing.

He hears the sound of soft footsteps scattering to catch up behind him, and he turns his head to the side to see a familiar looking husky. He immediately halts to a stop and it instantly follows suit, tongue sticking out and head faced up to look at Woojin.

“Kira?” Woojin mumbles as he reaches down to pet the husky, a tinge of confusion in his voice. “Why’re you here, shouldn’t you be at home?”

The husky just looks up at him with unblinking eyes as Woojin moves to check his collar, confirming that his husky is indeed, Park Jihoon’s.

He gets up, contemplating if he needed to carry Kira all the way back to Jihoon’s home, but it seems like she was obedient enough to follow at his heels, so he simply sets off in the direction of Jihoon’s home.

Woojin’s shocked to see the door slightly ajar, which probably explains how Kira got out in the first place. He ushers Kira in first before closing the door, his heart thumping at the various possibilities of why the door might have been opened in the first place. His eyes scan the living room, which seems to be in nearly the same condition as when he first visited Jihoon’s house. He walks quietly down the hallway, afraid that there might be an intruder in the house, but as he passes by what appears to be a bedroom, he sees a figure planted face down into the bed, unmoving.

“Jihoon?” Woojin frowns, moving into the room quickly to check up on Jihoon when he shows no sign of having heard him, afraid that something might have happened to Jihoon. He stands by the bed, gently shaking Jihoon as he attempts to wake him up, but is only met with incoherent mumbles and a soft frown on Jihoon’s forehead. His fingers are cold to the touch even though he’s dressed in a sweater and long pants, and Jihoon moves instinctively to seek Woojin’s warmth, clutching his arm weakly.

There’s something about the look on Jihoon’s face that tells Woojin something’s off, his eyes are clenched shut, eyebrows furrowed and body curled up, and none of it seems to be emitting a peaceful vibe about Jihoon, none of that gentleness that he has while awake. It’s all vulnerability and discomfort, which makes Woojin’s protective side come out.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Jihoon was currently knocked out, Woojin would’ve made some smooth comment on Jihoon’s surprisingly clingy behaviour, but the fact that he seems to be shivering under the covers makes Woojin even more worried than before. He’s slightly relieved at the fact that Jihoon wasn’t injured or unconscious, but the fact that his hands are trembling still stands, so Woojin uses a free hand to gently brush his fringe up, the back of his hand touching his forehead.

_Of course_ , Woojin thinks as he recoils his hand at the burning temperature of Jihoon’s forehead. Of course he’d come down with a fever, what with the extreme weather they’d had recently, either torrential rain or overly sunny days. He tries to look around the room for any medicine he could feed Jihoon, but all he sees are the occasional plastic bottles strewn haphazardly around the room, and a growing stack of empty cup noodles, making him frown instinctively.

Had Jihoon not been able to cook for himself? Woojin vaguely remembers something about a roommate, but come to think of it, he didn’t see a trace of someone else living in the house except for Jihoon, which makes him a little suspicious.

Kira brushes against Woojin’s legs to jump onto the bed, whining and nuzzling into her owner’s arms as if sensing Jihoon’s discomfort and wanting to make him feel better in her own way.

When Jihoon feels the familiar body of Kira pressing against him, he stirs awake, her warm body against his cold one. Jihoon blinks the sleep out of his eyes as he tries to refocus on the figure that’s currently beside his bed.

“Woojin?” He manages to croak out, hands rubbing at his eyes.

“Yeah, I found Kira nearby and thought she’d escaped, so I thought I’d bring her back, but then I found you like this,” He gestures to Jihoon lying weakly in the bed, face pale and eyes droopy.

“Also, I see that you’ve been consuming a ton of junk food, which probably explains your condition now, and I don’t know why your supposed roommate hasn’t been able to cook you a good hearty meal, so I’m going to take charge and cook you some food, so stay right there while I do just that.” Woojin commands with a stern yet warm tone, and it makes Jihoon smile sheepishly up at Woojin, too lethargic to form words to thank him.

Jihoon relaxes once more, hands combing through Kira’s fur as he hears Woojin having his way in the kitchen, utensils softly clanging on the kitchen counter and he can’t help but think how domestic this all is— having someone cook a good meal for you while you’re sick, he doesn’t remember someone having done all this for him, except for his mother. He smiles gently at how surprisingly comforted he feels, and falls back asleep with Kira still in his arms.

The next time he awakes, it’s to the smell of something hearty wafting through the house, and Woojin gently shaking him awake, guiding him to sit at his dining table because his legs were all wobbly and jelly-like, and Woojin thinks he might have to bridal carry him to the table.

A bowl of porridge is pushed in front of Jihoon, along with some pills that he fuzzily remembers buying while he was out, before the world started spinning and he’d barely managed to make his way home.

Jihoon doesn’t remember having any ingredients in his fridge that might’ve helped him make a mean porridge, but somehow the meal is warm and comforting, like a giant bear hug on a cold winter day, and it makes Jihoon miss his mother’s cooking a little, which might explain the tears that are rolling down his cheeks at this very moment.

“Um, are you okay? Does it taste really bad? Oh my god, I’m so sorry, did I do something wrong?”

It feels weird to laugh while he’s crying, but it’s bizarre that the usually suave and charming Park Woojin is being all panicky in front of him, so Jihoon can’t stop the choked chuckles that are escaping him.

“No, you silly, but thank you for the food.”

It’s a simple sentence, but Jihoon thinks it conveys all he needs it to.

As he continues to appreciate the home cooked porridge, Woojin sits next to him and asks, “So, you said you had a roommate? How come he doesn’t seem to be home?”

Jihoon grimaces, “Um, I was sort of lying? I don’t actually have a roommate, I was just trying to cover up the fact that I was attempting to cook and it failed really miserably, I guess.”

“So you’ve just been living on junk food?” Woojin seems genuinely shocked.

Jihoon can’t help but realise that the normal person that gyms probably takes care of their diet way more than he does, so he hurriedly adds on, “And store-bought salads too!”

Woojin’s unimpressed gaze tells Jihoon that he should be feeling guilty about the junk that he’s putting into his body, so he sulks and focuses back on his porridge instead.

He most definitely isn’t prepared when Woojin speaks up.

“Alright, then I’m going to take the initiative to bring you food then, I guess.”

Jihoon looks up in surprise, a spoonful of porridge still stuck in his mouth, as Woojin looks rather triumphant.

“You what?” Jihoon swallows the porridge and blurts out.

“I’m going to bring you food. Did I stutter?” Woojin repeats. “It’s not like I live that far away anyway, plus I nearly always have leftovers, so it’d be great if there was someone to help clear those up too.”

Woojin hopes he’s appearing as nonchalant as he thinks he’s appearing to be, and not too overbearing. He doesn’t want to scare Jihoon off, but there’s something about seeing Jihoon eat the porridge that he cooked with a satisfying grin on his face that makes him want to continue doing this. He can’t help but want to take care of Jihoon, even more so, after finding out that Jihoon hasn’t had a good home cooked meal for so long.

Plus, all the more reason there is for him to meet Jihoon, the better, right?


	2. chapter two

Jihoon enjoys his rest time a lot. Being a working adult means that he isn’t able to have much time for himself, though he’s glad the job has flexible hours and a comfortable working environment for him to work in. So whatever chance he gets to rest, he uses it to the best of his ability.

He would also appreciate it if someone would stop ringing the doorbell, because _for fuck’s sake it’s 8am on a Saturday morning, who the fuck expects him to be awake at this ungodly hour._ It really doesn’t help that Kira seems to have joined in with her howls, to which Jihoon groans and gives up feigning ignorance that the doorbell has been ringing for the past ten minutes with his head under his pillow.

In all his disheveled hair and pajamas glory, Jihoon flings the door open, greeting the unwanted visitor with a glare. 

What he doesn’t expect is to be greeted by the sight of Park Woojin, with a fresh smile on his face and hands propping up a paper bag of what smells like breakfast foods, and as if on cue, Jihoon’s stomach lets out a rumble.  

Woojin’s smile gets even wider, and Jihoon’s heart is beating even faster.

“What are you doing here,” Jihoon growls, but his voice cracks a little. 

Woojin dangles the paper bag in front of him. “You forgot about our promise?”

Jihoon scrunches his eyebrows together, trying to think of said promise. _Ah,_ now he remembers, that Fateful Day that Woojin had seen him, sick and miserable, and had offered to start cooking his meals, complete with delivery service to his house. Of course, Woojin had taken it to heart, because Jihoon never rejected him anyway.

(Not that he would have rejected him. It’s only because he misses home cooked food and Woojin’s food _was_ good. Definitely not an excuse to see Mr Park Woojin again.)

“Oh, _that_ , of course I remember, but I didn’t think you were _actually_ serious about it, I guess.”  
  
“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?” Woojin grins, and steps into Jihoon’s house. A blur of fur shoots out from a corner of the living room, past Jihoon, and heads straight for Woojin’s feet. Kira rubs against his legs, yapping away, as if trying to say _I’ve missed you._

 _The betrayal,_ Jihoon sighs. To think that someone that’s obtained his friendship in a mere month is close to overtaking his hard-earned position in Kira’s heart, he thinks as he watches Woojin bend down to give Kira a head rub.

“Aw cutiepie, you’ve missed me, haven’t you,” Woojin coos, as Kira excitedly nuzzles her face into Woojin’s neck, showering Woojin with wet licks all over, eliciting a chuckle from him.

“Ahem,” Jihoon clears his throat to interrupt the moment that’s unfolding in front of him, trying to act nonchalant that his dog is all over another man— he can’t decide if he wants to be at the receiving end of Kira’s affection, or the one showering Woojin with attention, but it’s a question that can be saved for later.

“So, what did you bring? I mean, not that I’m hungry or anything, just wanted to check that your cooking is actually edi—” A loud rumble cuts off Jihoon’s sentence, and he opens his mouth to throw an offhand remark before he realises that it was his own stomach that made that noise.

Woojin chuckles, “ _Sure_ , of course you’re not hungry or anything.”

He does, however, set Kira aside, moving to set up Jihoon’s dining table, opening the dishes he’d packed.  
  
The smell of home cooked stew makes Jihoon feel slightly emotional because of how much he’d missed his mom’s kimchi stew— and as he looks down at Woojin preparing the dishes, he can’t help but think of his mother and how she’d cook his favourite dishes every time he went back to visit, and he starts to sniffle because of how much he misses his mother.

Woojin looks up in surprise, his eyes widening as he looks at the tears that are threatening to fall out of Jihoon’s eyes.  
  
“Oh man, do you really hate me that much, or are you just too happy that I’m actually here,” he jokes, but his eyes are full of concern as he stands up, inching towards Jihoon with his hands outstretched.

“Shut up, I’m just a bit emotional, let me be.” Jihoon insists. He doesn’t know what possesses him to make the next move, but he presses his face into Woojin’s chest.

 _Oh god_ , maybe it was the wrong decision for Jihoon to actually hug Woojin, because now he’s enveloped in Woojin’s embrace, and all he can think of is how much Woojin feels like the kind of warmth you can only find at home— how he smells of clothes softener, and how his arms seem to fit so perfectly around Jihoon, enveloping him like a blanket freshly out of the dryer. 

(He tries to ignore the way Woojin’s heart rate seems to have sped up after Jihoon stepped into his arms, and blames it on the fact that he’s _obviously_ breathing faster because he’s rubbing Jihoon’s back and that’s a legitimate reason why he needs to breathe more.)

They stay like that for a while, Jihoon in Woojin’s arms, as Woojin gently rubs circles into Jihoon’s back.

It feels so bizzare— that he’s hugging a man that he absolutely knows he’s attracted to, but can’t bring himself to admit that attraction— because he knows the possibilities of their relationship ending up in flames is much higher than the possibility of them actually finding that mutual attraction in each other.

That’s why Jihoon’s a tad bit relieved when his stomach grumbles for the second time, so it gives him a reason to step out of Woojin’s arms, though when Jihoon does that, he immediately misses the warmth and protection.

“Thanks for the food, I hope you didn’t poison this,” Jihoon jokes as he settles down at the table, spoon ready in his hand.

Woojin just laughs, and gestures for Jihoon to start eating.

They eat in silence for a while— simply because Jihoon’s too focused on devouring the dishes in front of him, and there’s something about Woojin’s cooking that hits home, makes Jihoon feel like he’s filled with enough love and energy to go through the day.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to say this, but,” Jihoon starts, finally looking up.

What he doesn’t expect is to see Woojin with a warm, satisfied smile on his face, staring back at Jihoon with his head propped up on his palms.

Jihoon feels his face flush— he blames it on the spiciness of the homemade kimchi only hitting him now— and swallows nervously under Woojin’s warm gaze.

“Yes?”  
  
“This is the first time Kira’s ever taken a liking to anybody I’ve brought home.” He quietly says, before bowing his head back down and focusing on the food. He hears Woojin let out a small chuckle as Jihoon picks up his utensils again to resume eating, and he’s glad Woojin isn’t focusing on him anymore, because then, he’d see the red tips of his ears.

“That’s nice, I mean, I guess, even canines can’t resist me.”  
  
Jihoon lets out a cough, dramatically pretending to choke on his food as he shoots Woojin a glare. As if to prove his point, Woojin gestures at Kira, and surprisingly, she comes padding towards him right away, and Jihoon feels betrayed. He continues to glare at the two, who seem to be having a lovely time without him as he aggressively shoves spoonful after spoonful of food into his mouth, huffing in disapproval.

He can’t help but feel his heart grow warm at the sight of Kira playfully jumping onto Woojin’s face, and he watches the smile spread, feels his heart skip a beat at the sight of Woojin’s warm smile as he continues to entertain Kira.

Jihoon doesn’t realise he’s been staring at them for a longer period of time than necessary, until he meets Woojin’s eyes, and there’s a certain warmth to them, along with the grin spreading across his face. It’s not the usual playful grin— but something more raw, more _sincere_ , that it makes Jihoon’s heart clench, so he looks away and settles for continuing his meal instead.

Jihoon thinks he’s slowly learning things about Woojin, about him as a person, not just the playful flirt that has chosen Jihoon as his next unlucky target. He can’t say he hates it, not when it leaves him wanting to know more, to find out more about Woojin, and what lies behind that playful exterior.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a lovely morning for Jihoon to catch up on lost sleep from the past few days. As much as Jihoon would like to think of himself as a relatively fit being, the fact that he’s been to the gym nearly every day of the week has definitely taken a toll on his body, given the fact he’s aching all over right now.

He blames it on the fact that every time Woojin brings food over, it’s also a silent promise that they’ll head to the gym straight after _together_.

Though Jihoon isn’t complaining about being able to watch Woojin work out— which is a privilege on its own, really— he’s more hesitant about the fact that he also has to exercise. It’s a gym afterall, he can’t possibly just sit by Woojin’s side and ogle at his biceps, no matter what his innermost desires are. 

It’s only then that Jihoon realises how much time he’s been spending with Woojin— with this little routine they’ve slipped into. He starts off the day with Woojin’s breakfast delivery, and sometimes, even packed lunch, before they head to the gym together. Then they head back to Jihoon’s apartment for lunch, and maybe, take Kira out on a walk.

Not only that, but Jihoon’s been messaging Woojin at any chance he gets. He blames it on the fact that there’s no one else who entertains his dumb 3am thoughts except Woojin, and it has nothing to do with the fact that Woojin’s responses always manage to make him chuckle and laugh in a way he’s missed so much.

It’s not that Jihoon doesn’t like spending time with Woojin, be it in real life or simply through text messages, but there’s something strange about this bond— perhaps it’s because Jihoon hadn’t experienced one like this before.

He doesn’t hate it, that’s for sure.

 

* * *

 

Luck hasn’t been on Jihoon’s side today.

He’d started off the day by sleeping through all his alarms he’d set for work, thus having to rush through washing up, having a quick shower, and coffee— because he doesn’t have the energy and time for breakfast today— and leaving his house in a record time of 7 minutes, before barely catching the bus right before it left the bus stop.

Jihoon had collapsed into the seat, a dishevelled mess, finally finding the time to smooth down the mess that is his hair. He’d taken his phone out of his pocket, only to find it bombarded with messages from Woojin, mainly with messages like _hey :((((, did you forget about today?, reply meeeeeee,_ and _why won’t u open the door :(((._ Jihoon’s a hundred percent ready to go off, but then he remembers that he’d sleepily agreed to another gym session today— forgetting that he actually had to go into the office. He groans, starting to type out a message to Woojin.

 

**[ To: Park Woojin ] 09:46 A.M**

ugh, sorry i forgot to tell u i had work today  

**[ From: Park Woojin ] 09:46A.M**

nah it’s all good, i figured something had popped up anyway 

**[ To; Park Woojin ] 09:47 A.M**

:( still. i feel bad, i gotta make it up somehow!!

 

**[ From: Park Woojin ] 09:47 A.M**

it’s all good though, but what time do you end work today?

**[ To: Park Woojin ] 09:47 A.M**

around 6, i think? 

**[ From: Park Woojin ] 09:47 A.M**

nice, 6 is a good timing

**[ To: Park Woojin ] 09:47 A.M**

??? what???

**[ To: Park Woojin ] 09:49 A.M**

HEY U DOOFUS WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

 

Jihoon felt exhausted all of a sudden, so he leans back into the seat, and settles for closing his eyes instead, hoping that it’ll somewhat calm the incoming headache.

It did help to calm his headache, Jihoon had realised groggily as he woke up from a slumber he never realised he fell into. He’d rubbed his eyes as he surveyed the area through the window, only to realise, to his dismay, that it was raining. To add on to his misfortune, the bus was about to leave his stop, and he’d scrambled out of his seat, nearly tripping and falling on his face as he exited the bus.

Now an even bigger mess than before, Jihoon stared into the rain that only seemed to get heavier, and he _knows_ that he didn’t bring an umbrella today because he’d clearly stared at his umbrella for a good amount of time before deciding against bringing it to work today. Obviously, it came to bite him in the ass, but thankfully, his office was situated rather near from the bus stop, so he wouldn’t get _too_ drenched.

Thankfully, he manages to make it into the building without any more mishaps happening.

Or so he thinks, until his assistant tells him that he’s about an hour late to an extremely important meeting that he, himself had planned for today. It’s the perfect day really, he thinks, as he shoves his bag down onto his chair and grabs the necessary documents, before rushing to the meeting room, only to slip and fall butt first to the ground, in front of all his other colleagues.

He feels like the higher beings reigning this earth are playing a huge prank on him, as he stares at his colleagues attempting to stifle their laughter while looking away, the occasional noises that sound like farts giving them away.

He sighs, tries to pick himself up, and starts the meeting, all while in his set of wet clothing.

It’s a good two hours later that the meeting has finally concluded, and Jihoon sinks into his seat, finally able to relax. He picks up his phone, emotions bubbling and ready to pour out to someone.

 

**[ To: Park Woojin ] 12:23 P.M**

lol this is not a good day

**[ From: Park Woojin ] 12:23 P.M**

why?? your boss at it again?

**[ To: Park Woojin ] 12:23 P.M**

nah, just things, would be nice to get drinks today...

**[ From: Park Woojin ] 12:24 P.M**

you said 6, right?

**[ To: Park Woojin ] 12:24 P.M**

yeah, but what????

**[ To: Park Woojin ] 12.26 P.M**

ffs asshole stop leaving me on read!!!!!

 

Jihoon just sighs and immerses himself into work once again, hoping that 6pm will come quicker, and he’d finally be able to get home and rest.

Time passes quickly when you’re concentrated on something, and Jihoon hasn’t been keeping track of the time until he hears his phone’s ringer go off.

 

**[ From: Park Woojin ] 06:10 P.M**

u said 6pm? :(

  **[ To: Park Woojin ] 06:11 P.M**

yeah, 6pm— wait, what are u even planning?

**[ From: Park Woojin ] 06:11 P.M**

hurry upppp, it’s cold here :c

 

For some strange reason, Jihoon’s heart speeds up as he thinks about all the possibilities of what Woojin could be planning, and he rushes to pack up, hastily greeting his coworkers a quick goodbye before dashing to the lift lobby.

There’s a slight impatience burning within Jihoon that makes him skip waiting for the lift, opting to take the stairs instead. He doesn’t want to admit it, admit that he wants to see Woojin waiting there for him. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, in fear that it’ll just end up in disappointment again.

But something tells him it’s okay— that’s it’s Woojin, and it’ll be fine, that it wouldn’t be the same anymore 

So, as he finally reaches the ground floor, bursting through the glass doors of his office building, he’s a mixture of relief and happiness as he sees a familiar figure leaning against a pillar.

His heart stops for a bit, seeing how Woojin’s all dressed in a leather jacket and ripped jeans, and Jihoon thinks it must be illegal for someone to look that good.

Jihoon feels as if he belongs in a typical Korean drama now— from having started the day off badly, and now his prince charming is here to rescue him from all the pain and troubles of the world.

Except— Park Woojin _isn’t_ his prince charming.

There’s an urge within him that makes him want to run down the steps and press his lips to Woojin’s slightly pouting ones, presumably from waiting for Jihoon. But he reminds himself of the boundaries he’s set, so he swallows down the urge, and slowly walks down till he’s in front of Woojin, poking at his arm.

Woojin looks up, and visibly brightens when he finds Jihoon standing in front of him. He pockets his phone and chuckles, running a hand through Jihoon’s hair, trying to neaten up the mess on Jihoon’s head.

Jihoon just stands there and blinks, biting his lips and standing so still, because he’s scared that anya tiny bit of movement might just give away how hard his heart is beating against his chest. It’s such a simple movement, and yet, Jihoon feels slightly faint from the fact that Woojin is standing so close to him, so close that if he just moves his head a little more forward, his head would hit Woojin’s chest.

 _Fuck it_ , Jihoon thinks. Fuck boundaries and past wounds— he’s had a bad day, and he hasn’t let his emotions get the better of him yet. So, Jihoon definitely deserves this, he thinks, as he leans forward and lets his head fall onto Woojin’s chest. There’s a sense of satisfaction that comes when he hears Woojin’s breath hitch once his head comes into contact with Woojin’s chest, and there’s a second before Woojin’s arms envelope him in their homely warmth once again.

“Aw, is the baby tired,” Woojin coos in that deep voice of his, and Jihoon feels as if his heart might burst from the amount of emotions that are coursing through his mind right now.

“Shut up,” He mumbles against his chest, and he presses himself closer to Woojin. Jihoon feels the warmth seep into him from Woojin, and he hears Woojin’s heartbeat— it’s fast, presumably from the close contact, but it gives Jihoon a sense of reassurance.

They stay like that for a while longer, Woojin chasing away any questionable looks thrown their way with a charming smile that makes the ladies blush and the men feel uncomfortable enough to look away.

“That reminds me,” Jihoon speaks, finally moving away from Woojin’s chest, where a gust of cold air hits him, and makes him want to return back right away. “Why are you even here?”

“Oh, you said you wanted drinks didn’t you?”  
  
Jihoon’s eyes light up at the mention of drinks, which makes Woojin laugh.

“But no drinks,” Woojin continues, while watching a pout form on Jihoon’s face. “A good, hearty dinner can do you well too.”

Jihoon only has a moment to comprehend that it’s Woojin’s hand is on his, before he’s whisked away, Woojin walking in front of him, leading him out of the building, onto the streets.

Jihoon doesn’t mind this—trailing wordlessly behind Woojin, hands linked, the cold wind blowing against their faces, and he’s sure Woojin has a dumb smile on his face now, judging from the way he’s whistling.

He wonders when did they become so close, that it feels natural for them to be holding hands, like he can’t think of walking alongside Woojin without wanting to hold his hand.  
  
Which is weird, because Jihoon remembers the first time he met, and how Woojin had practically forced them to hold hands, and he’d hated every second of it. Or maybe he was just lying to himself.

It’s just their hands that are linked, but it fills Jihoon with warmth from within, and it makes him shiver a little less in the aggressiveness of the winter wind.

They walk like this in silence, the skies gradually darkening, and Jihoon watches the busy streets filled with cars, of people rushing to get back home to their families as he lets himself follow Woojin’s lead.

Woojin finally stops in front of a street food truck, and Jihoon lets the smell flood his senses as he turns around to find out where Woojin has brought him to.

It’s a small, humble truck that sells _odeng,_ and the smell of the broth makes his stomach rumble, so he tugs on Woojin’s hand, and says, “I’m hungry.”

Woojin just chuckles and turns to order for the two. It’s a lovely grandma who’s manning the stall, a smile gracing her features as she moves to prepare Woojin’s order. As she hands over the cups, she looks over at Jihoon and Woojin, and leaves them with a, “I wish you happiness.”

Jihoon knows that she probably thinks that they’re dating, but he can’t bring himself to deny it, and neither can Woojin, judging from the way he’s smiling at the kind grandma and wishing her the same.

 

* * *

 

Of course, to make up for that one lost gym session, Woojin shows up at Jihoon’s a day later, armed with breakfast and a glint in his eyes that tells Jihoon that he’s definitely going to be dragged to the gym today.

For some reason, this time, when the two of them step into the gym, a swarm of girls comes rushing towards Woojin, pushing Jihoon aside.  
  
He can’t stand it, the way the girls immediately latch onto every surface of Woojin that’s available, all cutesy smiles and flirty tones in their voices. It makes him want to throw up. Perhaps it’s due to jealousy, but Jihoon insists it’s partially also due to the manner the girls act in.

“Say, do you wanna go out for dinner tomorrow?” One of the girls— _blonde and dumb_ , Jihoon thinks, has latched herself permanently on Woojin’s right arm, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously at him. Jihoon doesn’t fight the urge to roll his eyes, even letting out a small scoff, as he starts to move off towards the equipment, not wanting to have anything to do with this mess.

“Sorry dear,” Woojin flashes a smile, and drags Jihoon back by the arm, swinging his own arm over Jihoon’s shoulders, “I’m kinda occupied tomorrow night.” 

 _What,_ Jihoon panics a little as he feels the warmth of Woojin’s chest behind him, coupled with the intense murderous gazes the girls are looking at him with. He shudders inwardly a little, choosing to elbow Woojin in the stomach instead. Wrong move, he realises, after he does in fact elbow Woojin in the stomach, but ends up with a hurting elbow rather than having any effect on Woojin at all. Damn those six packs, he thinks.

“Sorry girls, but because it’s our anniversary tomorrow, I couldn’t miss it for anything, right sweetheart?” Woojin winks at him and Jihoon can barely comprehend anything now.

 _Anniversary? Sweetheart?_ He’s screaming internally in his mind, and he opens his mouth to try and fight Woojin with words rather than actions but Woojin beats him to it.

“Anyway girls, if you’ll excuse me.” He flashes them a charming smile, diverting Jihoon towards the equipment instead.

“ _Excuse me?_ Anniversary? Sweetheart? What the fuck was that!” Jihoon hisses as he glances around to make sure that none of the girls were eavesdropping nearby.

“You don’t like sweetheart? Okay, let’s try again, how about ba—”

“No!” Jihoon presses his hands to Woojin’s mouth, a frantic expression on his face. Woojin is definitely amused, looking at Jihoon with raised eyebrows after he realises that he had spoken rather loudly and had attracted nearly everybody’s attention.

“Okay, _Jihoon_ ,” Woojin continues after Jihoon’s moved back to his position. “It’s the truth though. It’s our anniversary tomorrow!”

“ _Friendship_ anniversary,” He adds on after Jihoon shoots him a nasty glance.

 _What the fuck’s a friendship anniversary,_ Jihoon thinks.

“An anniversary to celebrate our friendship!” Woojin provides chirpily.

Jihoon wonders what he’s done in his past life to deserve this kind of treatment.

 

* * *

 

 

Apparently, Woojin was really serious on the whole friendship anniversary dinner thing, because Jihoon receives the details moments before he’s about to doze off.

 

**[ From: Park Woojin ] 12.37 A.M**

6.40pm tomorrow, i’ll pick u up ;)

  **[ To: Park Woojin ] 12.37 A.M**

new phone who dis 

**[ From: Park Woojin ] 12.37 A.M**

:( 

**[ From: Park Woojin ] 12.38 A.M**

i don’t care, see u at 6.40! dress nicely~

 

Jihoon sighs as he places his phone on the nightstand.

Tomorrow’s gonna be a whole ride again.

 

* * *

 

  

Tomorrow rolls around, and Jihoon’s seated on his couch, scrolling through Twitter when his doorbell rings sharp at 6.40pm.

He opens the door to reveal Woojin, dressed in a sharp blazer, much more classy compared to his sweatshirt and jeans combo, which makes him feel extremely under dressed, but also glad that Woojin had come over to pick him, so that he could change before they leave.

There’s a look on Woojin’s face that says, _you’re not wearing that, are you?_ , that makes Jihoon clear his throat and announce that he’s going to change as he leaves Woojin at the doorstep.

Woojin's glad that Jihoon left— because then he can finally try and calm his beating heart, at the sight of Park Jihoon in that cursed sweater, looking so damn innocent that it made Woojin want to envelop him in the biggest hug ever, and protect him from all evil in the world.

Jihoon emerges from his room a while later, just as Woojin's making himself comfortable on Jihoon's couch. He looks up to give Jihoon a once over, but finds himself doing a double take instead. He's almost scared of how good Jihoon looks— he's seen Jihoon in rather formal clothing before, given that he did, in fact, pick Jihoon up from his office. But there's something about seeing Jihoon in this set of clothes, in an informal setting, that makes Woojin's heart flutter.

It's not even an extravagant outfit that Jihoon has on, just a plain blazer and some black dress pants he managed to pull out from the back of his closet, yet Woojin thinks, that it’s the simplicity of the outfit that makes him look even better, that he can look good in even the simplest outfits.

Jihoon coughs, "I didn't know where we were going, so I settled for something similar to yours. Is this okay?"

"Ooh, are we on matching outfits terms now?" Woojin wiggles his eyebrows, at an attempt to tease Jihoon, but he's only met with a roll of Jihoon's eyes.

"Ouch, and yes, that's fine. It's nothing too fancy, don't worry. But, first things first," Woojin lets out a yelp when Jihoon moves to pinch him on the arm. "The bill's on me."  
  
Jihoon frowns, and is about to complain when Woojin shushes him even before he can open his mouth to speak, grabs their coats along the way, and pushes him out of his own door, telling Jihoon not to forget to lock it.

They move towards what appears to be Woojin's car, it's honestly nothing posh— but there's something about the way Woojin courteously opens the door for Jihoon before getting in himself that makes Jihoon feel like he’s royalty. Maybe it’s because none of his previous partners had ever thought of doing this for him.

There's something intimate about car rides that Jihoon can't help but notice on their way to their destination. Maybe it's the way how the passenger and the driver are merely separated by a small intersection in the middle, or maybe it's the way that it's only the two of them enclosed in a tiny space like this.

Perhaps, that's what makes Jihoon feel a little suffocated, so he asks for Woojin to wind down the car windows, and he sticks his head out of the window, feeling the breeze against his face.

The wind's cold, a harsh reminder that winter was here, after all. He likes the feeling of the cold air on his face, and he thinks it's slightly easier for him to breathe, feels himself slowly relax from the stifling atmosphere of the enclosed space.

They stop at a red light, and Jihoon can feel something at the back of his head. So he turns, and looks straight into Woojin's eyes.

There's something unexplainable about the look in his eyes when Jihoon stares into them. Something tells Jihoon about unsaid feelings, emotions, and words, and they’re all locked up in Woojin’s eyes, bubbling up when he looks at Jihoon. It makes Jihoon feel a little uneasy. And Jihoon wonders if the same intensity of emotion shows in his eyes as well.

 

* * *

 

They end up at a hotel lobby, and Jihoon feels immensely underdressed as Woojin smiles around at the staff, seemingly comfortable with the environment.

"I thought you said 'nothing too fancy'," Jihoon hisses.

Woojin just dismisses him with a wave of his hand, undisturbed by the fact that they were dressed like any normal civilian whereas everybody else in the building seemed to be donning suits and dresses worth millions of dollars.

"Booking at 7.15pm for Mr Park?" Woojin merely nods, and the staff brings them further into the restaurant, leading them into a small private room..

Jihoon feels small in this environment, especially looking at the way Woojin strolls in the restaurant, with his back straightened, hands in his pockets, his hair styled, even, that his entire being basically radiates confidence that Jihoon can't seem to find within himself.

It's a nice meal, they start off with a delicious appetizer that Jihoon can't pronounce the name of, and the rest of the meal goes by in a nervous blur, and Jihoon barely remembers what he’s eaten, except for the mild table talk with Woojin that helped calm the nerves within a little.

It was a good experience, but Jihoon can't help but feel relieved the moment they step out of the building, finding it much easier to breathe outside than in the stifling environment of the hotel.

Woojin only chuckles as he looks over at Jihoon.

"So, how was it?" He asks as they make their way towards Woojin's car.

"I mean, it was good, but," Jihoon stops to ponder. "I guess, the environment just wasn't very nice? Don't get me wrong, it was cool and all but, why would I bother to pay such a huge sum of money to eat in such an uncomfortable environment, when I could have something equally as delicious in the comfort of my own home?"

Woojin turns to give Jihoon a smile. "Are you talking about my cooking? Aw, I'm honoured that you find it delicious."

"What— No, wait, I mean your cooking's good, but, but—" Jihoon splutters as Woojin only but laughs at his predicament, and Jihoon lets a pout form on his face.

The ride home is much more comfortable than before, and they’re back to their playful selves, rather than sitting in uncomfortable silence. They end up back at Jihoon's apartment, where Woojin just invites himself inside for another playtime session with Kira. Which she appears to be very pleased about, judging by the way she’s already up and rolling by Woojin’s side as Jihoon rolls his eyes, moving into his room to change out.

He shouts at Woojin from his room about something along the lines of going to take a bath, and Woojin just continues to entertain the hyperactive puppy instead.

It’s only when Woojin’s exhausted from physically running about to play with the puppy, collapsed on the floor to take a break, when Jihoon emerges from his room, his hair wet, and a towel around his neck. He crouches down at Woojin’s side, where Kira is laid on his stomach and chuckles.

Woojin stares at Jihoon. He knows Jihoon is attractive, but seeing him in formal clothing, and now, in comfortable clothing, looking like an absolutely adorable angel, is a little hard for his brain to comprehend.

He doesn’t know what comes over him to take the next move, but all he knows, is that he’s bringing a hand up to cup Jihoon’s cheek, before they both freeze in place, their eyes meeting.

An awkward silence washes over them as Woojin hastily brings his hand down, and Jihoon averts his gaze, a hand instinctively moving to rub the back of his neck.

“Um.” Jihoon starts, as Woojin turns slowly to look at him. “Kira’s kind of fallen asleep on you.”  
  
“Oh.” Jihoon feels like that’s the shortest reply he’s ever gotten from Woojin, but he isn’t sure if that’s something to be proud of, or not.

“Uh, it’s kind of late now too, um, if you’d like, you can stay here for the night, I guess, I mean— I just think it wouldn’t be too safe for you to drive this late at night too, but it’s perfectly fine if you don’t want to, I mean, I can understand it’s really weird to sleep in a stranger’s house—” 

It’s a blatant lie, Woojin knows it isn’t that late out, and Jihoon trusts Woojin can take down anyone who tries to attack him, and can get home safely for sure. But there’s an unspoken promise between the two, to not speak of how dumb his excuse sounds.

“If you’d slow down a little,” Woojin chuckles. “I’m fine with it— if you’re fine that is, but I’m also slightly offended.”

Jihoon cocks his head to the side. “Offended?”

He nods, “Yeah. Offended that you think we’re still strangers after weeks of me bringing you food and talking via text messages almost every passing minute of the day. And we even celebrated our friendship anniversary just a few hours ago too! Need I remind you that we were just discussing the condition of your shit a few days ago?”  
  
Woojin’s right, and it leaves Jihoon in stunned silence about just how much he’s spoken to Woojin, revealed to him about himself, in a short span of time, that almost seems unbelievable.

He never realised how close he got to Woojin unknowingly, somehow tore down the barriers he put up around himself, that his heart has seemingly lost all his past wounds— all cleared up from the sheer happiness he feels whenever he’s around Woojin, and it makes a fear within him start to grow, but he presses it down. Jihoon feels like he can trust Woojin.

“Hello? Earth to Jihoon? Sweetheart? Princess? _Jihoonie?_ ”

The last nickname makes Jihoon flush red, smacking Woojin’s hand away from his face.

There’s a slightly evil smile on Woojin’s face that makes Jihoon afraid of the words he’s about to speak next.

“Aw, _Jihoonie_ seems to like it when I call him that, don’t you, _Jihoonie_?”

“Shut! Up!” Jihoon softly yells as he pelts Woojin with pillows that he grabs from the sofa behind him, carefully avoiding Kira, that seems to be peacefully sleeping on Woojin’s stomach through all this drama.

Somehow, he stumbles a little and loses his balance from the lack of friction between his clothed knees and the slippery flooring, and he finds himself hovering above Woojin, hands by the side of his face.

Their faces are inches apart, and it means they’re breathing in the same space, and Jihoon prays that Woojin can’t hear the way his heart is thumping against his chest.

His heart wants for him to lean down just the slightest bit, but there’s something at the back of Jihoon’s head, bringing up memories of the past, warning him with bright red lights.

It’s too much tension and emotions swirling within his head for Jihoon to handle, so he settles on quickly removing himself away from Woojin, scooping Kira up along the way, making an excuse that he’s bringing Kira to bed.

Woojin’s left lying there, and he chuckles to himself, thinking about how the first time they’d met, and how Jihoon had slipped, and ended up, quite literally, on top of him as well. He thinks that he still might be as whipped as before, looking at the way Jihoon’s sparkling eyes were full of uncertainty, and how Woojin had wanted to reach out and calm the storm in his eyes.

Jihoon emerges moments later, holding out what seems to be clothes for Woojin to change into, and Woojin graciously accepts, making his way into the bathroom to change.

The clothes are obviously slightly smaller than Woojin’s usual size, seeing how the sleeves and the pants come to above his ankles and wrists. Woojin doesn’t really think he looks that silly, until he steps out of the bathroom, and Jihoon starts giggling at him from his spot on the sofa. He’s about to retaliate when Jihoon pats the seat beside him, and announces, “We’re going to watch a movie.”

“What movie?” Woojin asks as he settles underneath the blankets and cushions that Jihoon has laid out. Comfy, he thinks to himself, as he relaxes on the couch.

“Finding Dory.”

Woojin laughs, “Alright sweetheart, if you need a shoulder to cry on, mine’s here.” He pats his left shoulder for added emphasis as Jihoon shoots him a look.

The movie starts off nicely, it’s great, the animation’s captivating, just like any other Disney movie.

Just as they hit the saddest part of the movie, Woojin hears sniffling from his left side. WIthout even looking at Jihoon, he grabs the tissue box off the coffee table and passes it to Jihoon, who receives it with a feeble _thank you_  

It doesn’t stop there. Woojin sneaks a protective arm around Jihoon and brings his head to lie on his own shoulder gently, as he rubs circles into Jihoon’s arm. He hears Jihoon’s breath hitch a little, but he continues to sniffle, and ever so slightly, worm his way further into Woojin’s warm embrace. 

Woojin can barely concentrate on the movie anymore, not when he’s holding the person he’s wanted to hold since months ago, and it breaks his heart to heart the sniffles that Jihoon emits, though at least he knows that it’s not because someone hurt him, but more of emotional attachment towards the characters in the movie.

They spend the rest of the movie like that, Jihoon in Woojin’s embrace as he continuously rubs circles on his arm, until the credits are rolling, and Jihoon’s gone scarily silent.

It’s only when Woojin turns to look at Jihoon that he realises his arm has grown numb, but Jihoon’s fallen asleep.

He thinks that Jihoon’s a secret fallen angel in disguise, because no one can look this perfect while asleep, but there he is. Eyelashes falling against his pink cheeks, slightly swollen and red puffy eyes from all the bawling he’d done during the movie, and his lips ever so parted. It hurts Woojin to look at the growing eyebags underneath those sparkling eyes.

If he could, he’d sit and stare at Jihoon forever, but he knows Jihoon needs a proper place to rest, so he quietly switches off the television, and starts to bridal carry Jihoon into his bedroom.

Jihoon’s _light_ — nothing compared to the weights he lifts in the gym, Woojin thinks. He remembers how Jihoon had been treating his body before Woojin came armed with breakfast for days, and his heart aches, so he promises to cook Jihoon many more hearty meals to come.

He sets Jihoon down on his bed, and to his surprise, there’s a slight smile gracing Jihoon’s features. It’s the softest smile that Woojin has ever seen on Jihoon, and it’s a kind of vulnerability that makes Woojin afraid whether he’s in the right position to see him at this moment.

His next movements are cliched, but Woojin thinks he’s purely following his heart now, for he sits down gently next to Jihoon and slowly brushes the fringe out of his eyes. He sees Jihoon frown a little, and for a second, he’s afraid that he’s woken Jihoon up. But that frown soon softens, and Jihoon instinctively moves towards the warmth that is Woojin, his hands curled, clutching onto the sweater Woojin’s wearing.

Woojin wants to scream, to do something or _anything,_ to let all his pent up feelings out. He tries to move away from Jihoon, but that clutch is stronger than Woojin had expected, or maybe he was just too afraid to wake Jihoon up from his slumber.  
  
So instead, he settles for awkwardly sliding down next to Jihoon, and praying that he doesn’t wake up tomorrow with a pillow to his face.

 

* * *

  
 

The first thing Jihoon registers when he wakes up, is warmth.

Which is strange, because he knows he has the habit of kicking the blanket away in his sleep.

Sleepily, he tries to recall last night’s events, and how he got onto a proper bed, before he opens his eyes to the answer.

Park Woojin.

In the same bed as him.

His arms are currently around him.

Jihoon panics— he doesn’t even need to rub the sleep out of his eyes, because he only needs a few seconds to fully comprehend that Park Woojin is sleeping on the same bed as him and his face is so close to Jihoon’s that he can _feel_ Woojin breathing—

“Mm,” Woojin grumbles as he shifts in his sleep, letting go of Jihoon and flopping over onto his back, slinging an arm onto the pillow.

Jihoon breathes a sigh of relief, and slowly gets up, afraid to wake Woojin up.

He peers over at Woojin’s face, and he sees that there’s a slight frown. Jihoon doesn’t like that, so he reaches out to gently pat his forehead, until he stops himself and realises what he’s about to do, so he quickly retracts his hand back and shuffles away from the bed.

Jihoon sighs to himself as he washes up. He’s torn down the barriers he set for himself, but now he has all other kinds of factors to consider. Does Woojin even like him? He does have all those gym girls too. Is Woojin attached? He realises, with his toothbrush stuck in his mouth, absolutely horrified, that he had never, _ever_ considered that Woojin might have been attached from the start.

 _But he never ever talks about his boyfriend— God, what if he isn’t even gay to begin with?_ Jihoon brushes his teeth furiously. He tries to convince himself that he’s just being irrational, but the voice inside his head tells him that these are perfectly rational thoughts to have, and he finds himself agreeing.

He shudders a bit in the cold environment from the lack of warmth, which was probably all supplied by Woojin. Jihoon can’t help but wonder how Woojin had ended up on the bed as well, but he can’t quite bring himself to ask Woojin that. 

Looking out at the window sadly, Jihoon’s eyes brightened as they focused on the clear white balls of fluff cascading from the sky.

_It’s fucking snowing._

 

* * *

 

 Woojin does wake up with a pillow to the face.

Not just a pillow to the face, no, but also a Park Jihoon jumping on the bed, and screaming in his ear about something that sounds like a show.

He rubs his eyes, and gruffly says, “What?”  
  
“It’s snowing!" 

Woojin looks out of the window, and realises that it is indeed snowing.

He turns and looks at the bright smile Jihoon has on his face while jumping around excitedly, and Woojin thinks, _this is what I want to live with, this is what I want to see forever._  

Jihoon has currently taken to pressing his face on the windows, nose smushed up against the glass, presumably to get a closer look at the falling snow. Woojin thinks it’s adorable and he wants to envelope Jihoon in a tight hug and never let go. 

He doesn’t know how he’s moved all the way over to Jihoon’s side, how his arms move to fit around Jihoon’s neck and his head instinctively rests on Jihoon’s own head. Woojin most definitely doesn’t expect the way Jihoon turns his head up to meet Woojin’s eyes, and then flashes him the biggest, most innocent smile, before scurrying away, announcing that they’re going to go to the park. 

Woojin wonders if Jihoon knows he effect he has on him, damned that gorgeous smile and those sparkly eyes. What was Woojin supposed to do in response to that absolutely innocent and adorable look Jihoon had just shown to him? Cry? Fall to his knees and immediately ask Jihoon to marry him? He does, actually, want to cry, from the amount of feelings he harbours for the man that goes by the name Park Jihoon, that seems to be so painfully oblivious to each and every one of his advances. 

Little did he know, that said man, was currently crouching down next to Kira, wondering what the fuck had come over him to flash Woojin a smile, a fucking _smile_ while he was in his embrace, and not immediately dash miles away. Jihoon grabs Kira and places her on his lap as he gently rocks back and forth, trying to calm his beating heart and wondering what the fuck he should do with all these emotions.

 

* * *

 

Woojin has never been a winter kind of person.

But if winter means seeing Jihoon bundled up behind layers and layers of jackets and scarves and Woojin being the one to bundle him up, then starting from today, Woojin is a winter person.

He feels like a parent almost, adjusting the last layer of scarves on Jihoon’s neck as Jihoon played around with Kira on his lap. Kira seems to be excited to, from the way she’s yapping and jumping around a lot more than she already usually does. Woojin’s glad he brought his coat over last night, because all of Jihoon’s coats are bright, and the one he’d chosen today was a bright yellow, bright enough to compete with the sun, he thinks.

Which, is a rather weird concept, because Woojin thinks that Jihoon’s presence is already as bright as the sun.

Woojin grabs his own coat as Jihoon leashes Kira up, and then they’re out of the house.

It’s just the first day of snow, and seeing how it’s relatively early in the morning, the snow isn’t too thick yet, which means they walk Kira without any troubles.

It’s almost natural how their hands meet in the middle. Neither of them say anything, as if afraid that something would happen if they did. But the silence that falls on them is a comfortable one., If anything, it reminds Jihoon of the first time they’d met. Except, Jihoon isn’t retaliating, and he doesn’t want to let go of Woojin’s hand anytime soon. It’s warm and comforting--having someone hold your hand. It’s the kind of intimate that Jihoon misses, the warmth that seeps from your hand, deep into your soul, the intertwining of fingers mimicking the intertwining of two souls.

“Hey,” Woojin says all of a sudden, making Jihoon turn to look at him.

“Fall may be over, but that won’t stop me from falling for you.”

Jihoon’s blushing, but his hands are fully occupied, so he settles for a glare as Woojin chuckles and gives their hands a squeeze.

The park’s in sight now, and from afar, Jihoon can spot the silhouettes of children and their families, making snowmen and having cute snowball fights.

“Last one to touch the tree loses!” Jihoon suddenly shouts and bolts off, Kira happily bouncing at his side, leaving Woojin in a shock before he finally dashes off as well.

Jihoon obviously reaches the tree first, after having a head start. He’s collapsed on the ground out of exhaustion when Woojin reaches the destination shortly after.

“Woojin, hey _Woojinie_ look,” Jihoon giggles as he moves his limbs around in the action of making a snow angel.

Woojin just chuckles at Jihoon, an endearing look in his eyes as he helps Jihoon to get up after Jihoon’s decided that he’s had enough of snow angel making. Instead, he settles for simply looking up at the sky in awe, as if intrigued by the way the snow seems to fall from nowhere.

Woojin wants to capture this moment, but he doesn’t have his phone out, so he simply settles for capturing it deep inside his memories, to save it for the darkest days. He doesn’t think he’s seen something more beautiful before, Jihoon radiating excitement and pure happiness, as the snow slowly cascades at the background. His eyes are shining with a kid’s purity, the kind you see when a kid gets his new toy, or plays with snow for the first time.

Woojin doesn’t think he’s seen Jihoon more beautiful, or vulnerable than he is at this very point.

Maybe it’s the snow that makes him gather his emotions.

Maybe it’s the fact that Jihoon’s with him now.

But he picks up his courage,

“Hey Park Jihoon.” 

Jihoon turns, lips humming, eyes sparkling with pure delight that Woojin feels his heart stop for a moment.

“I love you.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took long enough to post, but here it is, i guess yay  
> again, feel free to come scream at me on [twt,](https://twitter.com/poojin) and i hope this chapter brought a smile to your face.


	3. chapter three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry this took so long but— here it is!!!!!! woo i hope you enjoy!!

Maybe it’s the way Jihoon’s smile falters a bit after the words leave his mouth that makes Woojin want to take his words back. 

Maybe it’s the way Jihoon’s laughter sounds so forced and choked that Woojin’s heart aches. 

“You’re joking, right?”

There it is. 

A bitter smile crawls its way onto Woojin’s face as he feels a snowball hit him directly in the face even before he sees it. The coldness of the snow lingers on his bare skin, and Woojin feels the area hit by the snowball slowly turn numb. 

He thinks, the physical pain felt from the pinch of the snow helps take his mind off the dull ache building in his chest. 

“What, is today April Fools or something?” 

“No, but today is opposite day. Which means what I really meant was, I hate you.” 

There’s a twinkling laughter that doesn’t quite sound right, but Jihoon’s laughing, and Woojin can’t quite seem to care about the dull ache in his chest anymore. 

There’s only a moment before the tiny smile on Jihoon’s face is wiped off by a snowball thrown smack into his face, and they’re soon back to their childish selves, engaging in a full out snowball fight, armed with snowballs on each arm. 

It’s biting cold, the wetness of melted snow seeping throw their gloves, cutting into their skin. But Woojin takes a look at Jihoon’s face, and sees the way genuine happiness is expressed through his wide mouth smiles and chortles of laughter, the way his cheeks are flushed a pretty pink, partly from the cold and partly because he’s been laughing so much.

It makes Woojin feel warm seeping through from within. Maybe it is love, Woojin thinks. Maybe it’s his love for Jihoon that keeps Jihoon’s widest smiles at the back of his mind all the time that’s keeping him warm now.

He thinks he can live with it if Jihoon doesn’t respond the way he wants him to.

He thinks.

  
  
  
  


Jihoon runs.

He runs, and there’s no one there to stop him from running. 

He doesn’t answer when the morning bells chime, signalling Woojin’s arrival at his doorstep. 

He’s not at the gym, at his usual treadmill station.

Neither is he at the office, even when Woojin’s standing in the winter wind at 6pm, 7pm, 8pm. 

The more Jihoon runs, the more Woojin wants to give up, but the heart wants what it wants, and his heartstrings are tied in a dead knot to Park Jihoon. He chuckles, his breath coming up in little puffs. 

It was his fault. 

Woojin should have known. He should have, seeing how Jihoon was so reluctant to let Woojin come close, how he’d pushed Woojin away at the most random times with fear in his eyes that made Woojin afraid he had hurt Jihoon in some way. 

So why hadn’t he taken the signs of the stars, and stopped before he had ruined their relationship? 

Fate is cruel. 

It connects you to people you never thought you would’ve interacted with, and then it draws you both close. Closer than any other bond you’ve ever had. But then one string is suddenly loosened, while the other tangles into something a little more than friendship. 

It’s the buzzing of his phone while he’s wrapped up in his blanket after another day of waiting at Jihoon’s office that shakes him out of his thoughts. 

“Hello?” It’s a gruff voice that speaks, and Woojin holds his phone up to check the caller’s identity.

_ Park Jihoon? _

“Hello? You’re not Jihoon.” 

“Um, yeah, I’m not, but look, you were the first number on speed dial, and your friend’s currently knocked out here?” 

Woojin doesn’t know whether to focus first on the fact that he’s the first number on speed dial, or the fact that Jihoon’s currently knocked out in an unfamiliar environment. The second thought sends shivers down Woojin’s spine, and he senses his nerves gradually building up.  “Can you give me your location? I’ll be there soon.” 

  
  
  


 

It only takes minutes of reckless driving for him to arrive at the bar, and he pushes the door open to see Jihoon in his work attire, collapsed against the bar counter. Jihoon turns his head in Woojin’s direction as the bells attached to the door chime.

“Woojinie…” Jihoon whines, slowly picking his head up from the counter, legs kicking and arms outstretched towards Woojin.

_ Woojinie? What the fuck?  _ There’s a flush making it’s way onto Woojin’s face, and Jihoon fucking giggles at the sight of Woojin turning red under the dark club lighting. 

“Woojinie is embarrassed that I’m calling him Woojinie!” Jihoon half squeals. Woojin wants to hug him. But also strangle him. So he settles for gently picking Jihoon up from the counter, and there’s a small yelp let out before Jihoon settles his arms naturally on Woojin’s neck. 

Woojin throws a thanks at the busy bartender before making his way out. He stares down at the Jihoon in his arms, who seems to be especially intrigued that he’s up in the air. He reeks of whiskey and smoke, and Woojin frowns at the thought of Jihoon ever smoking.

It’s when he’s trying to gently place Jihoon onto the seats, an arm wrapped around his waist when Jihoon smiles cheekily, and pulls Woojin down towards him till their lips meet in a gentle kiss. 

Woojin’s out of it for a few seconds until there’s whining from Jihoon when Woojin doesn’t respond to him. Then they’re actually kissing till they’re out of breath and dishevelled and hair is tugged by hands to draw them closer, closer, closer. There’s a sweetness that cuts through the bitterness of the ingested alcohol that Woojin will later come to recognise as Jihoon, but Woojin’s mind is a swirling mess of want and confusion. 

They part, leaving Jihoon a dishevelled mess, cheeks even redder than before, and his eyes are still fucking sparkling as they match Woojin’s intense gaze. 

Woojin’s confused. 

He doesn’t want to seem self confident, but he really wouldn’t have confessed if he didn’t think Jihoon felt the same way. 

He thought he’d read the lingering touches wrongly, maybe the affection in his eyes were just purely of platonic attraction. He tries to pass off Jihoon’s kiss as a drunk mistake, but the recognition that sparked in his eyes told Woojin that it wasn’t the liquid courage acting on Jihoon’s behalf. 

He leaves Jihoon to lie on the backseat, closing the car door behind him and running a hand through his hair. There’s waves of emotions flooding him all at once— there’s hope that Jihoon might  _ actually _ like him, but also terrified at how he could have continued kissing Jihoon, terrified at the way Jihoon’s sweetness lingers in his mouth, and how he longs for more. 

After the winter wind gets to him, he steps back into the warmth of the car that seems slightly stifling, now with Jihoon’s drunk presence in the back.

He sets off without turning on the radio like he usually does, because he wants to be able to hear Jihoon in case he gets car sick halfway. But all he gets is nonsense that Jihoon’s spouting while asleep as he drives on the all too familiar road back to Jihoon’s home. 

All of a sudden, he hates how he knows where Jihoon’s apartment is, knows Jihoon’s tendency to mumble when he enters deep sleep. 

So he shouldn’t be surprised when he hears Jihoon sleepily talking to himself,  when he hears his own name tumbling out of Jihoon’s mouth. 

He turns to look at Jihoon when they come to a stop at a junction, and there’s a stupidly happy smile on his face that makes Woojin clench the steering wheel tighter as a way to vent the urge of needing to protect the smile on Jihoon’s face. 

He wonders what dream Woojin was doing to Jihoon that made him call out his name in that tone, put that dumb smile on his face.

Woojin pulls into the parking area, and gets out to drag Jihoon back to his own apartment. He leans back into the car, fully prepared to shake Jihoon awake, but one look at Jihoon’s peaceful, angelic looking face while he’s deep in slumber sends pangs to Woojin’s chest, so he settles for bridal carrying him out of the car instead, careful not to knock his head on the top of the car door. 

There’s a moment when Jihoon shifts in his arms slightly as he’s walking towards the lift lobby, and his breath hitches when Jihoon curls his fists on Woojin’s shirt, as if clinging on for dear life, pressing his face into the warmth that is his chest. 

He can’t decide if he wants to scream to let the burning feeling in his chest out, or if he wants to envelope Jihoon in a tight hug and sob into his shoulder at how adorable he is, even if he’s unconscious. Woojin looks down instinctively as he’s waiting for the lift to arrive as Jihoon grabs onto his shirt even tighter, mumbling incoherently.  He stares at the face he’s come to recognise, the features he’s come to remember, and the small grin he’s come to love.

Woojin wonders when he’d found himself falling for Park Jihoon. He remembers that in the beginning, he’d started his teasing ways because he’d found the way the blush spreaded on Jihoon’s rounded cheeks to be quite adorable. Never had he thought it would have ended up as part of their dynamic— the teasing and flirting that gradually turned into something more than just mere affection and physical attraction.

It might’ve been the way Jihoon enjoyed his cooking so much that he occasionally teared up, his stubborn character never allowing Woojin to take credit. 

He’s so engrossed in his thoughts, yet his body has grown accustomed the movements he takes to get to Jihoon’s house— bringing him into the lift, pressing the button to the 15th floor, and taking the right turn to unlock Jihoon’s apartment with the spare key he keeps under the flower pot.

There’s a tugging feeling at Woojin’s heart as he unlocks the door to the apartment that’s not his, and he thinks it’s his brain telling him that he shouldn’t be doing this, not after Jihoon’s earlier rejection. 

It wasn’t even a rejection, Woojin thinks as he nudges the door open with his shoulder. It wasn’t even a direct rejection that he could rest easy with, and he’s mad at Jihoon because he’s still fucking in love with Jihoon and from years of experience he knows the look in Jihoon’s eyes are of longing and yearning to be in Woojin’s embrace and escaping from him like Woojin’s a fucking disease. 

He’s gentle as he takes the shoes off Jihoon’s feet and lays him down on his bed. There’s moonlight streaming in softly through the full-length windows and it makes Jihoon shine even more, turn more ethereal under the rose tinted lens Woojin’s already viewing him with. 

It’s close to dramatic how Woojin has to forcefully peel his eyes away from Jihoon to leave, only to get stopped by a force pulling his hoodie from behind. He turns, and Jihoon’s frowning , a hand clutched onto Woojin’s hoodie, a little too tight for someone who’s supposed to be asleep. HIs heart nearly softens at the sight, his mind’s screaming at him to leave— but how could he, when the subject of his love wanted him to stay? 

Woojin lets out a silent sigh as he settles in next to Jihoon. It’s only when Jihoon feels a weight next to him that he releases his grasp on Woojin’s hoodie and mumbles a little. Had he given in to Jihoon too easily? Woojin thinks as he adjusts his position, laying on his side to get a proper look at Jihoon. 

As if sensing that Woojin was facing him, Jihoon tumbles into his embrace like it’s nothing, pressing his face into Woojin’s neck, sliding his arms around Woojin’s waist and clinging onto him like a little baby would. 

It’s fucking scary how well Jihoon fits into Woojin, and it’s terrifying just how perfect everything feels, how it feels like a missing puzzle piece has been put back, how Jihoon feels like  _ home _ and everything secure that it makes Woojin’s brain go fuzzy with love, that he wraps his own arms around Jihoon to pull Jihoon in tighter, as if the proximity would help convey some of his love to Jihoon.

He cards his fingers through Jihoon’s hair, and he nuzzles even closer into Woojin’s warmth, making Woojin nearly coo at how precious Jihoon was. 

He knows it’s dangerous, that it could potentially ruin everything they have when Jihoon wakes up to find them in this position, but he wants to let himself be selfish this once— wants to make Jihoon change his mind, to finally tell Woojin why he doesn’t want to admit he’s in love, too. 

  
  
  


 

When he wakes up, he finds that it’s still dark out. Which means that he’d either slept for merely a few hours, or he’d slept for nearly an entire day. But the bed is heartbreakingly cold, and Park Jihoon isn’t in his embrace anymore. 

By the way there’s dishes left on the table and the clock ticks 9pm, he assumes that it’s already the night after, and he blames himself for having slept for so long. 

Given that he’d had shitty quality sleep for the past week after Jihoons’ not-so-direct-and-very-confusing-rejection, it’s no wonder he slept like a baby, not to mention with Jihoon curled up in his arms like a personal bolster. 

Woojin rounds the corner of the living room to see a figure seated at the balcony. There’s cans of liquor laying around, and he frowns, because he’d recognise that back view from miles away, and he doesn’t think Jihoon’s kidney would appreciate it very much if he continued his drinking habits. 

He steps to stop Jihoon from downing the can of beer, but hears Jihoon’s words ringing in his mind.

_ You’re joking, right?  _

Maybe he’s overstepping his boundaries, when Jihoon had made it (not so) clear he wasn’t interested in Woojin. 

But he doesn’t care. He’s doing this for Jihoon as a friend, as someone who cares for him, not just because he loves him more than a friend ever would, but because he would like to see Jihoon live a long and healthy life, and large doses of alcohol on a regular basis doesn’t exactly allow for that. 

Woojin swiftly grabs the can of beer Jihoon had just opened before his lips could meet with the can, and there’s a whine before Jihoon stops and realises who it must have been, and then silence envelops them again. 

“You shouldn’t do this,” Woojin says quietly as he picks up the cans strewn around the balcony. 

Jihoon’s never looked smaller, curled up against himself, as if trying to take up as little space as possible. There’s little hiccups that escapes from his throat, but he’s silent otherwise. 

There’s another cup containing amber liquid, that Woojin assumes is whiskey, that lays at Jihoon’s side— forgotten under the cans of beer, and as Woojin settles down next to Jihoon, he picks it up, and to Jihoon’s surprise, downs it. 

There’s a feeling of satisfaction he gets from having Jihoon’s attention on him, and Woojin catches his gaze— all raised eyebrows and genuine shock unconcealed in his sparkling eyes, and he feels liquid courage slide down his throat. 

“Why are you running away from me?” 

There’s bitterness that leaks out of Jihoon’s soft laugh that’s not from the alcohol, and it makes Woojin automatically swallow in anticipation of the words that follow. 

“Running away?” Jihoon pauses to take another drink out of his can, and this time, Woojin lets him, lets it act as his fuel to keep going on. 

“I wasn’t really running away, per se. If that’s what you want to call it, then sure, but I like to call it protecting myself.” 

Woojin frowns at the teasing, yet self derogatory tone that finds its way into Jihoon’s speech, and he opens his mouth to retaliate, but Jihoon starts to speak again as soon as he opens his mouth.

“I don’t know if you know this, but my past… relationships. Though I honestly doubt if they can even be considered relationships, haven’t exactly been the best, you know. I guess in the end, I wasn’t quite charming enough for them? Maybe I just suck at flirting, you’d know, wouldn’t you?” Jihoon raises his eyebrows at Woojin.

The stars in his eyes are twinkling a sad melody— and it makes Woojin want to reach over and kiss him till his eyes are back to their mesmerising form. 

“Maybe it’s because I don’t want to risk getting hurt anymore? I don’t know. Maybe it’s selfish of me to have just run away from you like that without telling you anything, even though it’s obvious we have, or maybe had, a chance together. A chance at being something I was afraid to explore again.

It was scary, watching them change so quickly. I was like a toy to them, something they’d get bored of after playing with it for a bit, after the initial excitement has worn out. Then they’d throw me aside like that time period had never existed, and they’d expect me to be okay with it. They thought they were being so obvious that they expected no strings to be attached in our relationship.  Like fuck it was possible.

But then I grew. Grew out of the dumb self that only knew how to love, that only knew how to grow feelings with time. They said that I’d changed, that my eyes became cold and not the warmth they used to know. “

Woojin notices the way his voice breaks in the middle of the sentence, yet he doesn’t say anything about it. His hand is on Jihoon’s, his heart painfully clenching at how well their fingers seem to fit, how the moonlight’s shining on Jihoon’s face and emphasising the emotions that threaten to spill out past his eyes as tears. 

“I took such a long break. Thought I had finally stopped loving, stopped caring. But then you came along.” Jihoon gives Woojin a look. A look that’s parts endearing and of annoyance, and it makes Woojin flash a grin at Jihoon. 

“You came, and I fell so fucking hard, you know. From the absolute beginning, wow, it sounds so cheesy to say this, but it might have been love at first sight? The way you showed up with your smile and your umbrella amidst the rain, wow. And fucking holding my hand the first time we’d met. What a flirt.” Jihoon rolls his eyes at Woojin, but he sinks into Woojin’s side, and Woojin lets go of his hand to wrap it around his waist to pull him closer. 

“And I just kept falling after that. Did you drug the food with love potion? Maybe you did, because after you started delivering me food I swear I fell in love with you more than I already had. And then it became too much. We were something, something non-committal, and when you confessed I think there was something inside of me that got scared of what would happen eventually. The inevitable heartbreak and all that. So I decided to run, run away from you, but I didn’t know what I was trying to achieve from that. “

There’s a wind that blows that sends Jihoon shivering into Woojin, and he instinctively pulls Jihoon closer, nearer to him. Woojin feels the coldness of Jihoon’s skin against his, and he absentmindedly runs his hand along Jihoon’s arm to warm him up. 

A short silence falls on them, Jihoon lies his head on Woojin’s shoulder, and hums at the way Woojin runs his hand in his hair, and it feels like everything’s already settled. 

“But you came chasing after me. Why’d you do that?” Genuine curiosity leaks out from Jihoon’s tone, and he lifts his head up to look at Woojin. 

“Because I love you.” 

Woojin says it without hesitation, and there’s a big smile that threatens to take over Jihoon’s face. He looks happiest like this, and Woojin thinks that’s a smile he’d like to see for a very long time to come. 

“Anyway, as I was saying.” Jihoon clears his throat to continue, obviously in a much brighter mood. The smile is still on his face, and it’s such an adorable scene that a smile is growing on Woojin’s face as well. 

“You came to chase after me, because well, apparently you love me. And so I got surprised, because nobody has yet to do that. I ran because I didn’t want to deal with the heartbreak later. But Park Woojin, you have entire control of my whole fucking heart and I’m so in love with you that I’m willing to pay for the heartbreak later on just so we can have these months of honeymoon-esque happiness of only knowing love for one another.”

Then Jihoon’s grabbing his hand and interlacing their fingers together, and there’s a silly grin on his face as he speaks.

“So, Park Woojin. Wanna date me?” 

It’s a moment of stunned speechlessness before Woojin breaks out into an equally wide and silly smile of his own, and then he’s cupping his hand on Jihoon’s cheeks and bringing their faces together. 

It’s an awkward, sober kiss, because their noses smash together on their first try, yet they find their way back to each other, get drunk on the taste of each other till they’re out of breath and leaning their foreheads together. 

“Of course. Of course I’d wanna date you, you dumbass.” Woojin smiles. 

They fall asleep in each other’s arms that night, having made promises of eternity, exchanged under loving gazes and the protection of the moonlight shining on them as they smiled their love for each other. 

  
  


 

The sunlight is what wakes Jihoon up, shining onto his skin, making him toss around in discomfort until he bumps into someone, or something. He takes a good amount of time to stretch before slowly opening his eyes, meeting Woojin’s gaze. 

“Good morning,  _ boyfriend _ .” Woojin says with a blinding smile, and Jihoon thinks it’s way too early to have to deal with new pet names, so he frowns and buries his face into Woojin’s chest instead, wrapping his arms and legs around Woojin. 

Woojin’s hands automatically circle his waist as well, his fingers carding through is hair, lulling him back into sleep. He lets out a low hum in response, pressing his face into Woojin’s warmth, and Woojin tightens his embrace against Jihoon.

There’s silence that falls for a second as they hold each other for the first time, with full knowledge that they’re  _ something _ now, something more than just having a relationship of dancing around each other, and it makes the moment all the more special.              

Jihoon’s just about to drift back to sleep when Woojin’s low voice cuts through the silence. 

“Come on,  _ boyfriend _ , it’s time to wake up.” Jihoon responds with a whine, pressing his face even further into Woojin’s chest. 

“Did you not like that? Ok, let’s try again then. Wake up,  _ princess _ , it’s time to eat.” Jihoon instinctively squeaks at the pet name and tightens his arms around Woojin. It’s safe to say Jihoon likes it from the way he feels his face heat up, but he blames it on the fact that his face is pressed into Woojin’s very warm chest, and the heat is transferring to his face. 

There’s a chuckle from Woojin before Jihoon feels him rolling them both to the edge of the bed before standing and picking Jihoon up like he weighed nothing at all. Jihoon has his hands curled into fists at his chest, eyes wide open, meeting Woojin’s equally amused gaze. 

“You look so gross right now, you know.” Jihoon mutters as he stares into the eyes filled with love and adoration. 

“Only for you, my princess.” 

It’s almost drama-esque how Woojin whisks him into the bathroom to wash up and they go on with their days as if nothing had changed at all— except for the fact that Woojin tries to sneak in kisses— not that Jihoon minds. 

Maybe it’s when they’re just staring at each other while being in each other’s arms that Jihoon realises that he was fucking dumb to have tried to run away from Woojin, run away from what they had and were going to have, because he realises how fucking whipped he is for Woojin and how much he loves the way his snaggletooth peeks out of the corner of his mouth or how the dimples on his cheek show when he smiles his love for Jihoon. 

It feels like there should be fireworks exploding behind them, or some cliche background music playing as Woojin grins harder and leans closer to Jihoon, feels like there should be something  _ more _ , because Jihoon doesn’t feel like anything else could ever make him feel this strongly for someone. 

But there’s nothing, and it’s just them in this moment, kissing until all Jihoon knows of is Woojin, Woojin,  _ Woojin. _

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

It’s only the second day of them being together that Jihoon starts being adventurous. 

By adventurous, he means attempting to cook and not burn the kitchen down. Jihoon knows that Woojin loves to cook, especially for Jihoon, because he likes seeing Jihoon full and content and with a big smile on his face that’s specially reserved for food and Woojin only, so Jihoon wants to make Woojin smile because of his own cooking too. 

It’s only when Jihoon is in the kitchen, apron on and ready to cook, that he realises, he has no fucking clue where to start. After reading recipe after recipe, he finally settles on an appetising looking brownie of some sort that involves peanut butter and melted chocolate, which seems simple enough for Jihoon to make. 

It feels like days later when Jihoon finally manages to put the finished product into the oven, arms aching, and flour everywhere on the countertop and on his face. He takes a look at the mess he’s made and inwardly groans while thinking about how he has to clean this all up before Woojin gets home from the gym. 

Thankfully, he’s speedy enough that he manages to clean up just as the oven rings, signifying that the dessert is ready. He rushes to wash his hands clean after throwing the rubbish, putting on his oven mitts to take the brownies out of the oven. 

Jihoon hears Woojin walking up to his apartment, so he quickly slices up the brownies before plating them and throwing a scoop of ice-cream on top, and sets it at the table right as Woojin walks in.

The shock and the smile that soon follows after Woojin sniffs around and realises Jihoon has cooked for him is something that Jihoon wants to remember for a long time to come, so he makes his way towards Woojin and directs him towards the table. 

“Wow, I can’t believe you actually stepped into the kitchen,” Woojin jokes as he picks up the fork. 

“Just try it and tell me how it tastes!” Jihoon urges, and watches intently as Woojin takes a bite. 

Woojin raises an eyebrow at him as he swallows down the brownie, and Jihoon impatiently asks, “Well?”

“It’s good,” He smiles as he takes another bite, ditching the fork completely for his hands. 

“By the way, what’s that crunchy stuff inside? Tastes kinda weird.” 

“Oh, that. It’s crunchy peanut butter!” 

As soon as the words leave Jihoon’s mouth, Woojin drops the brownie onto the plate. 

“What’s wrong?” Jihoon panics, thinking that he must have messed up in some way. 

“Uh. How do I say this. I might kinda be allergic to peanuts? It’s nothing big though, probably won’t—” Woojin coughs mid sentence, hands moving to scratch at his neck.

Jihoon’s brain shuts down at the word “allergic”, panicking to get Woojin to the hospital for medical assistance as soon as he can.

He’s messed up alright. 

  
  


 

It’s weird seeing someone as healthy and fit as Woojin lying down on a hospital bed, his tan skin a stark contrast from the pale surrounding.

“I don’t understand why I have to stay here still, they’ve already treated me and I’m perfectly fine now,” Woojin complains as he stares sulkily at his surroundings.

“That’s because you had a severe allergy as a kid, you idiot!” Jihoon screeches in distress, pressing his face into the hospital bed at Woojin’s side. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier!”

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Woojin says gently as he cards his fingers through Jihoon’s hair. “It just never occurred to me, plus I haven’t had any allergic reactions in a long while, and it’s always been me cooking for the two of us, anyway.” 

Jihoon all but lets out a cry as he jerks his head up from his resting position. 

“I’m a terrible boyfriend,” He sniffles. “It’s barely been a day since we’ve gotten together and I’ve already tried to murder you with my first cooking attempt! Maybe it’s a sign from the heavens telling us that we aren’t meant to be after all—” 

“Idiot.” Woojin bumps his fist against Jihoon’s forehead to stop him from rambling, before placing his hands on Jihoon’s cheeks and squishing them together, eliciting unhappy sounds from Jihoon. 

“Park Jihoon.” There’s a serious tone to Woojin’s voice that makes Jihoon quieten down and look into Woojin’s eyes. 

“We’ve barely been together for 37 hours and 16 minutes but these 37 hours have been the happiest hours of my life. Even if you tried to kill me, it doesn’t matter, because you can’t get rid of me till I’m old and lying dead in a coffin. Got it?” Woojin ends off, his face straight as he squishes Jihoon’s cheeks even harder.

“...How did you manage to say all that with a straight face.” Jihoon barely manages to speak coherently before Woojin laughs and lets go of his grasp on Jihoon’s face.

“Like I said, it’s because I love you.” 

Jihoon flushes and Woojin chuckles even harder as he moves in to give Jihoon a peck on the cheek.

“...I love you too.” 

“What? I couldn’t hear that, can you say it louder?” Woojin teases as he grins at Jihoon, who’s face is now flushed with embarrassment. 

“I said I love you too, you idiot.” Jihoon mumbles louder as he presses his face into his hands.

Jihoon hates that he loves the laugh that fills up his room and his heart, hates that he fits snugly into Woojin’s embrace, hates that Woojin presses kisses into his hair because he knows that’s what Jihoon likes. 

  
  


 

Being together with Woojin comes easily to Jihoon, and so does all the perks that come with it. It’s easy for him to reach out and link their hands together, and anticipate the wide grin that Woojin gets whenever Jihoon initiates the hand holding. 

It’s also easy for him to wake up to Woojin pressing kisses into his face, feeling the familiar weight of Kira pouncing onto the bed and worming her way in between the two of them.

But it’s the easiest for him to remember the way they first met, caught in the rain right outside the gym, how he fell immediately for Woojin’s grin, Woojin’s face,  _ Woojin  _ in general. 

There’s still doubts that come along with them being together, that they won’t last for long, that this honey-like happiness will soon dissolve only to leave a bitter aftertaste. 

But Jihoon seeks to find the pockets of things that will continue to keep him pushing for this relationship, like the way Woojin tightens his arm around Jihoon’s waist as they share an umbrella while walking back to Jihoon’s from the gym, or the way he finds Woojin’s eyes the prettiest when he’s looking at Jihoon and sees the stars he claims are trapped in Jihoon’s eyes, in Woojin’s own.

They’re not perfect, but their love keeps them going, and it’s their love that makes their eyes shine and their kisses loving and their goodbyes painful. 

It’s love that earns them endearing, but annoyed sounds of displeasure from the gym owner when their limbs aren’t the ones working out.

It’s also love that makes them seek each other, after throwing words that they don’t quite mean, at the end of the day, coming back to loving embraces and chants of “I’m sorry, I love you.” 

Love might be cliche, Jihoon thinks, but this love he has with Woojin, he wouldn’t exchange for anything else in the world. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow!!!! i'm done with my first chaptered work wow that was A Ride Indeed... i'm not exactly happy with it per se, especially the flow of the story, but i think it's mainly bc i planned for it to be a long one-shot and not a chaptered... nevertheless thx for coming on this journey with me! scream at me on my [twt!!!!!](https://twitter.com/poojin)

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed it— i haven't written a chaptered work in a really long time so i hope this is fine, yikes, scream at me on [twt](https://twitter.com/poojin) about 2park, and leave a comment if you liked it? it makes me happy c:


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